


The Griever

by ThomasStanleyHolland



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner RPF, The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner, maze runner
Genre: Before the Limp, Blood, Gen, Glade, Grievers, Hurt Minho, Hurt Newt, I Love Newt!, Injured Newt, Injury, Major Character Injury, Newt is a Runner, Newt whump, Really Hurt Newt, Runner, Scared Chuck, Scared Minho, Scared Newt, Screaming, Whump, hurt!newt, newtmas - Freeform, poor Newt, scared, scared thomas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-05-30 05:03:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15089609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThomasStanleyHolland/pseuds/ThomasStanleyHolland
Summary: Newt and Minho are runners who don’t make it back to the glade before the doors close. Thomas and Chuck are worried.Are they hurt?Will the boys make it back alive?Chapter 3:What concerned Thomas the most was the thick dark blood slowly tumbling out of Newt’s mouth like molasses. It covered his jaw and seeped down his throat.





	1. The Night

“Are they back yet?” Chuck whispered to Thomas while staring into his half-eaten bowl of soup, courtesy of Frypan. After hearing the news, he wasn’t hungry anymore. The soup had long since grown cold. 

“Thomas?” Chuck gently pried, hoping to get an answer about his friends. 

Thomas looked up from his own bowl and glanced up at Chuck. He looked like he already knew what Thomas was going to say.

“No.” he said with a dull expression before turning back to his soup. Thomas thought about Newt and Minho, off in the maze. The walls would close any minute. Every runner had come back except for them. What if something happened to them? What if they were hurt? What if-

Thomas’s thoughts were interrupted by Chuck. As if the young boy had read his mind, Chuck gently spoke, “They are okay. They have to be. They are the b-best runners.” 

Although it was quick, Thomas didn’t miss the slight flutter in Chuck’s voice, making it obvious that he was scared. Thomas was scared too. 

“If they are the best runners than why aren’t they back yet?” Thomas mumbled under his breath before picking up the bowl and taking it back to the kitchen. Chuck followed behind him silently. 

When Chuck set his bowl down, his hand trembled with fear. Some of the cold soup dribbled onto the floor.  
“Hey, hey Chuck! It’s going to be alright you said it yourself! Come on, you know Newt and Minho! They’re smart!” Thomas said gently, hoping to calm the young boy. 

Before Chuck could respond, a horrible grinding sound echoed throughout the glade. The doors were closing, trapping Newt and Minho in the glade. 

“If they were s-so smart, the shucks wouldn’t still be in the m-maze.” Chuck said coldly, before running over to his sleeping bag. 

Thomas sighed and rubbed his eyes before following after Chuck. On his way he looked at the Glade. Everything seemed normal, but Thomas could tell that it was quite, quieter than usual. Newt and Minho weren’t just his and Chuck’s friends, they were everyone’s friends. Everyone’s leaders. And now they were gone. 

When Thomas got to the sleeping bags, it was obvious that Chuck had been crying. His eyes were red and puffy and his cheeks were slightly flushed. In his hand was a small book that looked worn in well-read. 

Trying desperately to make Chuck feel better, Thomas tried to distract him.  
“What’s that you h-have?” Thomas asked gently. He hated the way his voice shook. The truth was, Thomas was terrified, terrified of loosing his friends, but Chuck couldn’t know that. Chuck was scared enough as it is. Thomas ignored his thoughts and carried on. “That thing in your hand?” He added as he gestured to the small book. 

Chuck’s face rose to a slight smile, but Thomas could tell that it was forced. 

“Alby gave it to me. When I got here. It gave me something to do. Apparently he thought I talked to much.”

Thomas almost laughed, but he saw no jokes in Chuck’s eyes. 

They said in silence for a while until Chuck spoke. 

“No one’s ever survived a night in the maze before.” he said so quitely it was almost a whimper. 

Thomas looked at Chuck with sorrow.  
“Let’s get some sleep, yeah?” He said softly. 

Chuck nodded.


	2. The Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing could prepare them for what they saw next. 
> 
> The doors to the maze stood open, and everyone anxiously looked inside. 
> 
> Thomas dropped the book. 
> 
> Chuck screamed.

The supply box came up that morning. While many of the gladers were still asleep, Alby, Frypan, and a few others unloaded the supplies. More clothes, more shoes for the runners, and more Greiver serum. After the boys carefully removed all of the items from the box, they waited for it to go back down. 

It didn’t. 

“What the shuck?” Alby exclaimed before muttering a quick sorry to the Gladers he accidentally woke up by yelling. 

“Why ain’t it goin’ back down Alby?” a young boy, around Chuck’s age, with light blonde hair asked and rubbed his eyes. 

“I don’t know, James. Everything just keeps gettin’ worse and worse.” Alby muttered before stepping away from the large empty box. 

The boy, James, got up from his sleeping bag and stood next to the edge of the box. 

The box was giant, large enough for a grieved to fit in even. 

James yawned and looked over the rest of the Glade. 

————-

Thomas woke up next to Chuck, who was reading the book from last night. Chuck looked like he was in deep focus. Thomas wouldn’t be surprised if Chuck could recite every word from every page in the little book. 

When Thomas heard Chuck whisper something, he figured the boy was just reading aloud, but when he listened a little closer, he heard what Chuck was actually saying. 

“They have to b-be alive, they have to be. Newt and Minho are the best runners. They h-have to be alive they have to be.”

Chuck kept repeating this phrase, over and over. Maybe if he said it over and over that it would become true, Thomas thought. Thomas prayed that it would become true. 

All of a sudden, Chuck spoke a little louder. 

“I know your listening to me Thomas. I’m not a dumb shank.” Chuck said.   
Thomas noticed that this time, there was no quiver in his voice, only anger. Chuck put the book down, and his expression instantly changed from anger to sorrow. His eyebrows were knitted together with worry, and his bottom lip slightly trembled. 

“You think they’ll be there when the doors open?”

Thomas couldn’t speak, he was so scared God he was so scared. 

He turned to face Chuck, and simply nodded. Just like Chuck’s phrase that he said on repeat, Thomas hoped that maybe if he nodded enough and told Chuck that they would be there, they would be. 

“Come on ya buggers, get up!” Alby’s deep voice echoed throughout the glade. Thomas could tell that Alby was scared. After all, Newt and Minho were- no are! They are Alby’s best friends. 

The Gladers got up quickly. When they all left the Homestead the place was a wreck, sleeping bags, pillows, and blankets were thrown everywhere, but no one cared. Everyone just wanted to stand by the doors. 

Chuck stood the closest to the West door of the maze. Thomas stood slightly behind him with Chuck’s red book in his hand, which Chuck gave to him to hold onto. Alby and the others stood next to and behind Thomas. 

The tension in the glade was painful. No one dared to speak. 

All of a sudden, a familiar grinding sound echoed throughout the entire glade. A few boys covered their ears. 

Nothing could prepare them for what they saw next. 

The doors to the maze stood open, and everyone anxiously looked inside. 

Thomas dropped the book. 

Chuck screamed. 

Minho’s clothes were ragged and torn. Every part of him was dirty and bloodied. He was bleeding from a large gash in his leg that was probably already infected. He was panting and sweating miserably, clearly not able to catch his breath. Thomas thought that he was about to pass out from heat stroke. Minho was yelling and screaming out of fear, but it couldn’t be heard over a horrible screeching noise. In his right hand was a small but sharp knife about the size of his fist. 

Minho was swinging the knife wildly, hoping to stab it into any part of the robotic creature in front of him. 

That’s right, a griever. 

The griever was huge. None of the Gladers has even seen one before besides the runners, and even most of them hadn’t seen them this close up. 

It was a bulbous and scary creature with spikes and needles running up and down its body and it’s many arms. It had sharp claws and poison that made you go through the changing. Not many Gladers had gone through the changing, but everyone heard he screams of the victims. They knew it was terrible.

One of its robotic arms hung lifeless at its side, the side where Minho was attacking. Sparks were flying into the air from the gashes in the metal that Minho was creating. 

The other arm was risen in the air. That side of the monster looked hardly touched. 

In its sharp and monstrous claws hung none other than a limp and bloodied Newt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed! More coming soon!


	3. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What concerned Thomas the most was the thick blood slowly tumbling out of Newt’s mouth like molasses. It covered his jaw and seeped down his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks for reading!

Wow, it’s been a while. I have no excuse for updating this so late really.  
The only reason I am updating this at all is because of the comments.  
Well, I hope you enjoy! Kudos to you if you are reading this right now. You are a real one. :)

 

Previously on the Griever: A Griever sat at the entrance of the Maze. An exhausted Minho stood desperately before it. In the creature’s grasp hung a limp and bloodied Newt.

 

Thomas’s first instinct was to run. To get Chuck away from the entrance. To help attack the creature with Minho.  
And - oh god- definitely to help save Newt. Was he even still alive? Thomas thought.  
But he couldn’t move.  
For a moment it was like Thomas was a statue.  
He stood eerily still as the Glade erupted into chaos around him.

Thomas watched a Glader pull Chuck back, probably Alby.  
He watched as the Gladers collected any item that they could use as a weapon. He heard the screams of his friends echo all around him.

Thomas didn’t move until he felt a rough hand on his shoulder, effectively shaking him from his trance. He looked up to see that the hand belonged to Frypan.

“Thomas! We have to go!” Fry yelled as he gestured to where most of the Gladers were going, towards their huts.

Thomas could barely hear him over the ear piercing screams. Thomas didn’t hesitate for a second before shaking his head “no.” He had to find Minho.  
And he needed to find Newt.  
God, Thomas had no idea how he could live without that boy.

Frypan desperately tried to get Thomas to run to shelter while Thomas’s eyes darted frantically around the Glade in an attempt to find his friends.  
What he say made him want to be sick. In the minute that the Griever had been there, their home had been thrown into disarray.

Debris littered the place.  
Homes and hammocks had been destructed. At last Thomas found what he was looking for.

Minho, Newt, and a couple other Gladers. Not to mention our little friend the griever.

The other gladers were trying their best to attack the griever in any way they new how. Minho was standing farther away from the Griever. He held Newt in his arms.

Choosing to ignore Frypan’s desperate pleas, Thomas sprinted over to Minho and Newt. His heart wrenched at the sight he saw.

 

Tear tracks cut through the layers of grime on Newt’s beautiful face. His shirt had three long jagged tears down the front. Blood showed through each one.  
What concerned Thomas the most was the thick dark blood slowly tumbling out of his mouth like molasses.  
It covered his jaw and seeped down his throat. It was like a scene from a horror movie. Newt’s face was one of agony and pain. He looked so shaken. So broken.

 

Thomas carefully went to Newt’s other side and lifted the boy from Minho’s exhausted arms.

“Tom-Tommy.” Newt said quietly, his words slightly slurring together. As he spoke, more blood leaked from his mouth.

 

Thomas held back a sob.

 

“I’m here, Newt.” he said gently as he slightly tightened his grasp on the boy.

Thomas looked to Minho and with unspoken words. Both boys walked as quickly as they could back towards the huts, away from the Griever. Away from the imminent danger that loomed above them.

Right before they arrived at the safe place, Newt looked up into Thomas’s glassy eyes.

 

Newt’s bottom lip trembled before he spoke.

 

“I love you, Tommy.” Newt said with a sniffle.

 

It was less than a moment later when Newt’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and his world went black.

Above all the screams that filled the Glade at that moment, Thomas’s could be heard the loudest.

He cried out for the boy that he loved.

The boy that he hadn’t gotten the chance to tell how much he loved him too.

 

Hey! Next chapter will hopefully be out soon! Sorry if this was kinda short.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make my day and help me write faster!! ;))

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh I hope y’all like it! More coming soon!


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